The Big Day
by Fanwoman
Summary: A Diana-oriented look back over the past two years and into the future from Marco's perspective. Fairly sweet and fluffy, this includes a bit of Tom and Alana, too. Oneshot.


NOTES: You knew someone had to write one eventually. After reading phoniexchild's Life in Snippets, it was impossible to resist. I was hoping there'd be a few more Diana and Marco fic up before I posted this, but I think it's been languishing on my harddrive long enough. Oddly, this was supposed to be from Diana's POV, but when I sat down to write it, it ended up being Marco's. The trisected structure is a bit odd, but, hey, it's fic. This is what my muses demanded. Thank you, evil-jeannie75 for betaing this!

SPOILERS: through Mommy's Bosses/season two

DISCLAIMER: _The 4400_ and all things associated with it belong to other people.

* * *

THE BIG DAY 

To be honest, it was actually lust at first sight. She walked into the research department wearing a skintight turtleneck and hip-hugging slacks that highlighted every curve of her slender, graceful figure. Enticing dark curls and delicately arched eyebrows framed a face that was both feminine and strong. Her aura was commanding, the kind that didn't suffer fools gladly, and when she introduced herself as Diana Skouris, Marco couldn't help but think she must have been named for the Roman goddess she emulated. Her reputation preceded her; she was one of the most intelligent people in their branch of Homeland Security. Together, they would make beautiful, brilliant babies!

Never before had his reaction to a woman been so immediate and unrelenting, not even as a teen. He was aroused just by watching her walk across the room. Thank goodness he tended to wear his shirts untucked! Fortunately, there was enough of his brain that wasn't attached to his libido that he was able to talk with her coherently. Where would he be without the ability to multitask?

Unfortunately, between careful inquiry and observation, he came to the conclusion that, like her divine namesake, Diana was beyond the grasp of mortal men. It wasn't that she was cold or forbidding, at least not to him, but that she was distant. Any attempts at personal conversation resulted in one of three reactions--she would be oblivious, brush it off or become glib. One of the guys postulated she was a lesbian, but Marco knew better. He saw the longing in her eyes when Alonzo and Julia announced their engagement. It was as though the couple shared something she wanted but could never have. For some reason, this deepened his feelings for her, moving him past plain physical desire into true infatuation.

Despite the invisible barrier she maintained between herself and the rest of humanity, he enjoyed her presence too much to not seek it out, but there was only so much call for them to interact at work. Even so, he made sure he was always the one from his department she dealt with, going so far as to bribe the IT guys to call him when she needed computer assistance. Thus, he managed to develop a reasonable professional relationship with her. Then the 4400 arrived; the Theory Room was created and he started seeing her on an almost daily basis. It was like heaven.

He owed much of his sanity and success to his sisters. With one a doctor, the other a lawyer, they both knew women like Diana, women who had forsaken their personal lives in the pursuit of their education and career. Their first instruction was to start working out, not because they thought Diana would be more impressed by his physical prowess but because it would give him more confidence and make him more comfortable with himself. They had also advised he dress better while insisting he should remain true to himself in his choices. Although he resisted ties, as head of the Theory Room, wearing a sports jacket once in a while wasn't unreasonable. With practice, he learned to always look her in the eyes, though doing so wasn't easy given how attractive he found her. Of course, her eyes were so exquisite and subtly expressive that he soon found them as distracting as any other feature of his supernal coworker.

It was after Diana's partner was relegated to a desk job that Marco's big chance came, one his sisters had schooled him to exploit. While Diana's new partners came and went, Marco was always there to lend an ear, to act as a sounding board for her thoughts and frustrations. Better yet, when NTAC got its own building, not only did he help her with her things--no small feat while overseeing his whole department's move--but the new venue offered him an opportunity he gladly grabbed.

They were both morning people, and there was a coffee shop within walking distance. He ran into her there by accident the first time, but it wasn't long before it became a habit. When it was sunny, they would walk along the tree-lined path that lead to NTAC, sipping coffee and talking about everything--pure bliss. On rainy days, which were many in Seattle, they would take turns picking up coffee then meet in the parking garage for a shorter but equally enjoyable stroll to the elevator or Theory Room.

With his sisters' help, he learned to seriously consider all the little things Diana would talk about, occasionally offering suggestions when his perspective provided a viewpoint she seemed unable or unwilling to perceive. In this way, he became her confidant, with the rare privilege of seeing into the heart of her, then he completely fell in love. He'd already admired her intellect and integrity, but these were the resilient and occasionally intimidating facets of herself she showed the world. It was her personal quandaries that exposed her secret self; her self-doubts were so meaningful and heartfelt. Was Maia old enough to take responsibility for a pet? Should she try to make amends with her sister? Was she being a good mother?

It wasn't always easy to be patient when Diana would make light of his hints that they should go out together, but with the reassurances of his sisters, he had faith she would eventually see him for all he was and all he could be for her. Although he couldn't understand how it might be possible, they assured him Diana probably had issues about herself that prevented her from believing anyone would want to be with her, issues she would probably have to work through before she having any personal revelations about him. No matter how unperceptive she could be about the feelings of others, she was too astute to not figure it out eventually. It was only a matter of when.

The rest of his success he owed to Maia, the brown-eyed little imp. Once Diana took the orphaned 4400 into her home, she began to change. Interestingly, she started eating better, becoming more aware of food and nutrition. She also opened up more about her personal life, perhaps because she had more of a personal life to discuss. It was all new territory for her, and Diana had no family to offer her emotional support. Marco's knowledge of his niece became invaluable because he could share his vicarious childrearing experience with her. As remarkably helpful as her building's neighbors were, occasionally she had no one to turn to but him. When NTAC called Diana at 10pm on a Saturday, Marco would babysit her clairvoyant ward. If Maia was sick and Diana had to stay with her, Marco would transfer files or deliver materials so she might work from home.

Unlike Diana, Maia was more sensitive to the feelings of those around her. Whether that's how she figured it out or there was a vision involved, Marco couldn't be sure; he'd made a point of letting the child know he would never ask her about what she "saw." Either way, Maia was well aware of Marco's interest in Diana. As a girl in the boys-have-cooties stage of life, she was not always neutral about his intentions toward her mother-to-be. There was the time she managed to trip and spill the chocolate malt he wasn't supposed to have given her just half a minute before Diana walked in the door. Once, while playing a game of Life, she theorized Diana didn't like boys because she never went on dates, but she changed the conversation quickly when Marco asked her why she'd brought up the topic. The worst was during a quick dinner before Diana left on a case. In the midst of discussing work, Marco had suggested some of Diana's partner's troubles were related to recovering from his recent divorce. With wide-eyed innocence, Maia wondered aloud why anyone got married anymore, considering how much higher the divorce rates were compared to her own time. After all, the only adults she knew well were either divorced and unhappy or unmarried and relatively content. Talk about a conversation killer--worse, Diana agreed!

Despite her lack of sympathy, Maia's presence in Diana's life had transformed the object of his desire from untouchable to personable, and he adored her for it. Considering the weighty responsibility of foresight that Maia had been burdened with, and the love she showed and joy she brought to Diana, it was difficult _not_ to adore her. With advice from his sisters and niece, he managed to win Maia over by helping her make the transition into this new world of technology and providing her as much of a sense of normalcy as he could when they were together. Soon, he grew to treasure her smiles nearly as much as Diana's.

When NTAC demanded Maia's diary, he felt partially responsible. After all, he was the one who'd advised Diana to look at it to determine if it involved visions. Unlike Diana, Marco had never fully believed Maia when she'd claimed she had stopped seeing glimpses of the future. Maia's vision of Collier's death had so traumatized her that there was no help but to reveal the truth to the head of NTAC. It frustrated him that Diana was caught between protecting her child and duty to her job, and then he came up with a wild and inspired solution. When he'd offered Diana a fake diary to give to NTAC, he wasn't sure how she'd react. Heck, he wasn't even sure how she was reacting when it happened, but she seemed to sincerely appreciate his effort, called it one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for her.

Much later, he learned that was when she'd finally become aware of the potential of him, of them, that he'd moved her heart and caused her pulse to race. At the time, he couldn't be sure, as one crisis followed another in rapid succession. He gave her all the support he could, but when Maia grew ill and Diana met Dr. Maxwell Hudson, her chummy talk of the physician hurt him deeply. How could she be so taken with someone she barely knew when he'd spent more than a year cultivating a relationship with her? Had he been for Hudson what Maia had been for him--a means of making Diana more approachable? Despite how surly Diana's apparent interest in Hudson made him, Marco did all he could for her because it was the right thing to do and because it would help Maia and because he was hopelessly in love with Diana. In the end, Hudson didn't matter, and his sisters were proven right. One day after the 4400 were cured, he found himself at Diana's for dinner, and within ten minutes of his arrival, she kissed him. It briefly wiped all conscious thought from his brain, but he'd spent too long in his pursuit of her to let himself leap to conclusions. Even after a dire prediction from Maia, the evening ended as it began, with a kiss, a fulfillment of the promise of the first. He later discovered that nearly losing Maia had motivated Diana to reevaluate her life and the importance of the people in it--another thing for which he owed Maia his thanks.

Their physical relationship progressed surprisingly quickly after that, as though Diana was unwilling to waste anymore time. Their first date at his place ended with them on his sofa, making out like desperate teenagers. The next time Maia slept over at a friend's, Diana invited him to spend the night. Words couldn't describe the intense satisfaction their love making brought him. After Diana's vocal climax, Mrs. Benke from the condo above called to be sure she was all right, causing them to laugh like maniacs. While having those aspects of their relationship come to fruition was immensely gratifying, other facets were less fulfilling. Diana still shied away from conversations about deeper issues, as though to discuss them would somehow break the passionate spell they were under. But being a friend with benefits wasn't enough; he wanted more. Against the advice of his sisters, who cautioned him to wait for Diana to feel comfortable enough to broach the subject, Marco devised a plan to end his blissful torment and bring their relationship to a conclusion, one way or another...

* * *

She opened her door and stole his breath away. That was nothing new, but this time, she was in the most feminine, elegant garment he'd ever had the pleasure of seeing her wear. True, Marco found her suits with slacks as sexy as any dress he could imagine, yet there was something special about this outfit. Diana rarely wore earth tones, and the color brought out the red in her hair and the blush on her cheeks. The simple, graceful lines emphasized her long legs, accentuating the confidence of her stride that always came out when she wore heels. Being in the gown, the meaning behind it, brought out a rare vulnerability in Diana, one to which Maia seemed oddly oblivious. With an irrepressible smile, he offered her his arm to escorted her to the car. 

They'd both been surprised a few months earlier by an invitation to Tom's place shortly after the 4400 had been cured. Aside from an early attempt to humanize the 4400 in Diana's eyes, Tom hadn't put much effort into being social with his partner, and he only grudgingly appreciated Marco as a professional. Their host had claimed the least he'd owed them was dinner in thanks for all they'd done to save the 4400, yet they had been greeted at the door by a woman with an accent. Marco had heard of Tom's involvement with a returnee, but it was the first time he'd ever met her. Alana was beautiful and cosmopolitan, a gracious hostess and a fine cook; it was no wonder Tom had kept her to himself. More remarkable was how she changed Tom; he was like a different person--he actually smiled! As surreal as the whole premise of the evening had been, there was more to come. Tom and Alana not only shared that they were engaged, Tom wanted Diana to be his "best person" at the wedding. With his son incarcerated, Tom felt she was the best choice for the honor. She was understandably astonished--especially given that they were in the midst of trials for Tom's son, their old boss Ryland and a handful of others involved in the deadly repression of the 4400's abilities--but she resolutely accepted.

It was enjoyable being Diana's pre-wedding attendant with Maia, listening to her concerns and complaints. Marco found it humorous that she was more anxious about walking down the aisle, handing Tom a ring and giving a speech than she was testifying against high-ranking government officials or confronting a violent returnee with supernatural powers. More than happy to play chauffeur to his two favorite ladies, Marco borrowed his uncle's Caddy to give them extra legroom and luxury on their way to and from the wedding hall. Besides, the added panache seemed fitting, and it brought an odd amusement to his uncomfortable lover. At last, she began to appreciate this wasn't some dreaded obligation she was about to fulfill; it was a day to celebrate. Between the trials and Maia's big prediction, they could use as much celebration as they could get.

They arrived early enough for Diana to take pictures with the wedding party and for Maia to help him set up a live video feed for Tom's son to watch--Marco's contribution to the day's events. The ceremony was nice and short enough that his nine-year-old companion didn't get too fidgety; she liked the smell the profusion of jasmine gave the place. Despite the risk of an outdoor wedding in Seattle, the weather was sunny and mild, and everything went off without a hitch. Although Diana was a part of the wedding party, Marco and Maia were reunited with her during the reception, where they shared a table with Sid and his girlfriend, Sarah. Luckily, Sarah was a Mariners fan, so they had something they could all talk about...well, other than Diana. Even if she had been a baseball fan, she was too nervous about her imminent speech to pay much attention to conversation, occasionally looking off into space and subvocalizing her lines. Maia made up for her mother's inattentiveness, asking polite questions that made Sarah more comfortable about being surrounded by agents of the federal government.

After an exceptional meal, it was finally time for Diana to deliver her speech. She began awkwardly, plainly nervous in her recital, but about halfway through, she warmed to the thoughtful words she'd crafted for this momentous occasion. By the end, she'd gotten three good laughs and two teary-eyed moments out of the crowd, which applauded her efforts. Unhostile Tom was never an easy read, but Alana seemed very pleased, toasting her new husband's partner. A sweet speech by Alana's sister was followed by cake and dancing. Sid and Sarah made a fine pair, and after the first dance, Alana came over to ask Maia to be her next partner. Maia was understandably thrilled and unsure about taking the attention of the bride. With her mother's permission, Maia was whisked off in the arms of a smiling Alana.

At long last, Marco had Diana to himself. It was time to put his plan into action! Standing, he offered her his hand. "Diana, may I have this dance?"

Not meeting his eye, she shook her head, her curls bobbing in that way that made his fingers itch to touch them. "I..." Her tone was apologetic and a little flustered; he had to lean closer to hear her confession. "I'm sorry, but I don't know how."

This didn't really surprise him; most people their age couldn't waltz. With a smile, he continued with Plan A. "It's easy. I could teach you."

She looked up at him. "You could?" The words seemed as unguarded and surprised as the expression on her face. It was as though, now that her speech was over, she had no reservations.

"Sure. If you'd like, we could practice in the entry." He tilted his head in the direction of the big double doors at the back of the room. "It's empty right now."

With a determined nod, she took his hand, and he led her from the hall. The sound of music and scent of jasmine followed them, adding a soft intimacy to the wide, vacant space. Placing her left hand on his upper arm, he slipped his right around her to settle in the middle of her back, fingertips resting along her spine. The gentle rise and fall of her breathing beneath his palm was intoxicating. The heat of her skin infused the fabric with warmth, causing something within him to melt. God, how he loved the feel of her! Trying to not become too distracted, he took her other hand and explained, "Strong arms are important; it's through the arms direction is communicated." He moved his left hand to emphasize his point, and her arm followed loosely, easily. "Put some resistance into it but not so much as to be stiff." She did as he instructed, and soon he was able to pivot her whole body, not just her arm. "See?"

"Okay." One corner of her mouth quirked up, and her head cocked in that way she did when she was accommodating someone. "But last time I checked, dancing was all about what your feet are doing."

"A common misconception." Nodding in time to the music, he instructed, "The most important part is to remember a waltz has three beats. We'll start with a basic box step. One, two, three; one, two, three."

Looking down, she tried to follow him, with mixed results.

"You don't need to look at your feet; they'll go where they need to."

She glanced up at him, unconvinced.

"Remember, this is a social dance," he smiled. "You're supposed to focus on your partner. Just keep your feet apart and the rhythm in mind. One, two, three; one, two, three." She did much better, raising an eyebrow in surprise. "You're a natural."

Diana let out one of her unladylike snorts. "Hardly. So how is it you know how to waltz?"

"It was a requirement in my family."

"Like piano lessons?" He'd shared that bit of his childhood when they were at a favorite old Greek restaurant with a piano; she'd been impressed and delighted.

"Actually, in tandem with piano lessons. One of us would play while the other two would dance." When she wasn't paying attention, Diana waltzed quite easily. He moved out of the box step into a spinning arc across the entry.

"Your sisters sound like such interesting women." If only she realized they knew more about her than she did of them!

"They're tyrants. You should meet them." The music came to an end, and he twirled her with one hand before bowing. "Thank you for the dance."

He straightened, and she stepped closer. "I've always wanted to learn how to waltz." She said it with one of those smiles of pure happiness that made him feel more alive.

"Diana, would you marry me?" The words came out so easily.

Her mouth hung open for a few moments before she managed a shocked, "What?"

Wrapping his arms around her, he drew her against him. Occasionally you had to speak very plainly about feelings to be sure she got the picture. "I love you. I want to be your husband and a father to Maia."

"Marco, I..." It was sometimes difficult to read Diana's expressions, and the myriad of emotions she seemed to be experiencing was not making the task any easier. Where had his bold and decisive Diana gone? How could this have unsettled her so? What if...

Swallowing the lump in his throat, he fought to keep a smile on his face and disappointment from his voice. "It's okay if you need some time to think about it..."

"No," she declared with resolve.

His heart sank; he could hardly draw breath for the weighty sensation of loss. How could he have been so wrong? Loosening his hold, he stepped back, but she stepped with him.

"I don't need to think about it," she clarified. Taking his head in her hands, she stroked his cheeks with her thumbs. "I'll marry you, Marco."

He knew a big, dopey grin had spread across his face, but it hardly registered over the circus that had suddenly started its performance in his chest. Unable to speak, he merely nodded. Beaming, she nodded back. Then he held her so tightly he couldn't breathe. Lifting her up, he gave her a spin, causing her to gasp then laugh. Her laughter was rare; the happy sound was like a benediction.

Setting her down, he found his voice again. "I almost forgot." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the little leather box he'd been carrying all day. "I'm not sure if it'll fit, but we can get it resized." Glancing from the ring to her face, he was surprised at the wonder in her eyes. Had she thought he'd propose without one?

Her fingers trembled slightly as she touched his hand and the box, lifting them higher. "Did you get this from April?"

"April?" Why would she...? "No. It was my mother's."

She gave him an astonished look before returning her attention to the ring, touching it tentatively. "Your mother's?"

"Here," Marco removed it, slipping the box back into his pocket. "Let me show you." Tilting his hand, he twisted the ring until the light caught the engraving on its inner surface. In an elegant script were the words _Mio Lucia Caro_.

"Your mother's..." she murmured.

Uncertain, he offered, "If you'd rather pick one out-"

"No." There was a warm intensity in her eyes. "It's beautiful."

"Okay, in that case..." He knelt before her, but she hastily pulled him back up, her cheeks pink.

"I already said yes." Her grin was like the one she used when she'd solved a case, satisfied and indulgent. She held out her left hand expectantly.

With a gentle caress, he slipped the ring onto her finger. It fit perfectly. For a moment, he just stared at her hand in his, his mother's ring sparkling back at him, physical proof of the relationship he'd labored with such care to forge. He felt so many things at once, he was surprised they could all fit in one body. Joy, relief, desire, belonging and, above all, love--they combined into a heady, euphoric mix that left him speechless. In that moment, he was the happiest man in the world.

"Kiss me, Marco."

Gladly, he obeyed, and she wrapped her arms possessively around his neck. All he could feel were her lips and body against his, their hearts beating in time. The rest of the world faded away.

* * *

"Maia, where is your mother?" Alana had been unable to find Diana but had spotted her daughter sitting alone at their table. 

With a coy smile, the girl replied, "She's in the entry with Marco. He was teaching her to waltz."

"Why don't we go get her?" she suggested, extending her hand to Maia, "I'm about to throw the bouquet."

The girl took her hand and hopped from her chair. "All right, but she doesn't need to be there."

"Why is that, Maia?"

"You'll see."

When they reached the double doors separating the entry from the main hall, Maia stopped Alana from opening them. "Just look." The youngest of the 4400 grinned knowingly.

Set in the top of the doors were a pair of glass panes too high for Maia to see through. Peering into the entry, Alana was surprised to see the couple in a passionate embrace. There was a gleam on Diana's left hand that could only come from a ring, and she knew the NTAC agent well enough to be aware she almost never wore jewelry.

"Maia, was your mother wearing a ring today?"

"No."

"She seems to be wearing one now. Does that mean what I think it means?"

Maia shook her head. "It's not for me to say."

"What's the holdup?"

Alana turned to find her husband beside her, peering through the glass. "Quiet, Thomas," she chided. "We don't want to disturb them."

He let out a surprised huff. "Is that Diana and Marco?"

"You disapprove?" Alana raised an eyebrow at him. In the other life they'd shared, one without the 4400, only Diana had been a part of their world. She knew little of Marco other than he seemed to be reliable and possessed the kind of intelligence and knowledge that made Thomas contemptuous. Regardless, there was no denying Marco had been vital in finding the truth behind the promycin inhibitor and that he made for a charming dinner guest.

"I just didn't think she had it in her." Thomas' response was honest; Diana had never married in the reality they'd created from his thoughts.

"Thomas!" she hissed in reprimand. "You should be happy for them. I think they make a lovely couple."

"I think I shouldn't be seeing this." He turned away. "Let's leave the lovebirds alone; it doesn't look like they need any help from us."

Alana took Maia's hand. "Why don't you stay with us at the head table until they come back?"

"May I please have another piece of cake?" The request was as polite as it was hopeful.

"Of course!"

One of Thomas' younger cousins caught the bouquet. The toss was followed by more cake, champagne and dancing. Although Diana's absence was noted by more than one of Thomas' colleagues, when she and Marco finally returned, they kept their surprise to themselves. Even so, it was difficult not to notice the newly affirmed love shining in their eyes. Happy loved ones, a beautiful venue, gorgeous weather and a secret engagement, a bride could hardly have asked for a better day.

* * *

Mio Lucia Caro - My Beloved Lucia 


End file.
